


keep our veins tangled like a pair of mic cables

by sternenrotz



Series: broken hearts hurt but they make us strong (queer horror verse) [1]
Category: The Horrors (Band)
Genre: Agender Character, Coming Out, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Nonbinary Character, Other, gender feels, this is the most gen thing ive ever written they don't even kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-31
Updated: 2015-03-31
Packaged: 2018-03-20 12:41:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3650736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sternenrotz/pseuds/sternenrotz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Faris and Josh have a late night conversation about gender.</p>
            </blockquote>





	keep our veins tangled like a pair of mic cables

**Author's Note:**

> titled after "gemini (birthday song)" by WHY?.
> 
> set in summer 2010. Josh uses ey/em/eir pronouns in this fic but eir gender is complicated. (ey doesn't like using labels in that regard.)

Josh’s already curled up in bed with a bowl of reheated stir fry and a movie playing on eir laptop when the phone rings.

Maybe it takes em an embarrassingly long time to actually pause the movie, peel the duvet back, and walk across the room to fish the mobile from the pocket of eir discarded jeans. But only maybe. Honestly, ey would have ignored it, if it hadn't kept ringing for over ten seconds, but it wouldn't stop. The call turns out to be from Faris, for once in a while, but Josh isn't too bothered when ey picks up.

“Hey?”

“Josh.” Faris says it like it's a complete sentence. He never starts phone calls with _hello_ like a normal human. “How're you doing?”

Josh shrugs. “'m good.”

Eir room is chilly in stark contrast to the cosy bed, a side effect of keeping the blinds closed and the fan on all day to turn the flat into an icebox. Or maybe that's just the flimsy old t-shirt and knickers ey's wearing. Josh wraps emself back up in the duvet with the phone stuck to the side of eir face either way.

“Was just about to go sleep, is all.” Ey reaches for the bowl of rice again and adds, “Actually, I'm eating in bed.”

“What you having?”

“Some rice and veg leftover from dinner.”

Faris doesn't talk on the phone at all if he can avoid it, and now he's attempting small-talk, so he's got to secretly have something on his chest. But Josh's not going to push that just yet.

“And I'm not a boy or a girl today.”

“Okay,” Faris says back. “Was hoping I'd get to talk to neither Josh, actually.”

Oh.

“Well, you've got neither Josh.” Now Josh has got him. “So, what's going on?”

“What do you mean, what's going on?”

“Obviously there's something going on.”

Josh kicks one foot out at the bottom of the bed, knowing fully well that it’s not nearly an adequate substitute for Faris' shin. Faris has incredibly kickable shins, and ey really wants to kick one right now. He would deserve it, too, for being obtuse and generally Faris about this conversation, and also as a whole.

“'cause you're calling me at midnight, and you're trying to make it look like that's normal, like we just call each other for no reason, but now you're also being obtuse about it, which is… I hate you so much for doing that.” Josh pauses for a second and then adds, for good measure, “I generally really hate you.”

“Hate you back,” Faris says in his affectionate voice, no hesitation at all.

Josh isn’t any less cross at him for being obtuse just yet.

“You think I can come over? Don't want to do this over the phone.”

“Sure you can.” Just in case he forgot to eat for the last few days again, Josh adds, “I've got some rice and veg left still.”

“I'm aware of that.”

“I'm aware you're aware of _that_ ,” Josh mocks, but ey can't pull off the complete lack of inflection Faris puts into his voice. “See you soon?”

“See you in twenty.”

Josh puts the phone onto the bedside and gropes for eir stir fry again.

Only when the phone rings again, Josh remembers ey should maybe get out of bed and put emself together a _little_ before Faris comes in.

“Yeah?”

“I'm walking up the street up to your building right now.”

“Cool.”

“And I'm also only calling you because I'm completely sure you're in bed in your underwear right now even though you have guests coming over.”

“Fuck you,” Josh says back.

Ey sits up, though, and ey steps out of bed once again to find a clean shirt because eir current one is inside-out with a suspicious stain on the left tit. Maybe some pyjama bottoms, too, while ey's at it, because the knickers ey's got on are the strappy see-through fuck-me kind and there's really no point in Faris seeing that. Josh runs a hand through eir hair, too messy and too greasy to be presentable, and then Faris rings the bell by the building’s door, and Josh buzzes him in.

Ey waits for the sound of sluggish footsteps up the stairs, and then for the jingle that comes with Faris fishing for his spare key, and ey lets him properly come in.

“Hey again.”

“Hey.”

Faris is in a _state_. He always is, more or less, but cigarette smoke drags behind him, stuck to his ratty t-shirt and his trackie bottoms, and the grease mats his hair to his head.

“Mate,” Josh says and wrinkles eir nose. “You look like shit.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Faris shrugs out of his leather jacket, a scuffed-up vintage one he barely ever wears. He doesn't retort by pointing out that Josh is just as unwashed and nasty as he is right now, though, and Josh can't help but be slightly disappointed with him. Disappointed, but also concerned.

“So. You want any rice and veg?”

“Not really.” Faris bends down to unlace his boots as well, and he says, “I haven't showered since Saturday.”

Tonight's a Wednesday night. The last time Josh emself took a shower was two days ago, and even that feels like it's been too long in the humid weather.

“D'you mind if I take one here really quick?”

“No, 's fine.” Josh slots eir thumbs in the waistband of eir pyjamas, unsure what else to do with eir hands. “I'll make us tea, then.”

Josh is pouring the tea into two mugs, eir favourite bear one and an ugly vintage one Faris bought at a flea market that somehow made it into eir cabinets, when Faris shuffles into the kitchen. He's still in his old shirt and trackies, Josh doesn't even have to look because the reek of fags and cold sweat is still around him. A moment later, he drips water onto the back of Josh's neck when he crowds in behind em.

“This for me?” he asks, and he reaches for the bear mug.

Josh lets him do it and warms eir own hands on the chipped floral mug instead. The steam hits eir face, obviously too hot to drink, and makes it feel the sweaty kind of disgusting instead of the regular greasy kind of disgusting.

Ey makes an affirming noise and asks, “So, where did you want to talk to me?”

“Iunno,” Faris slurs out. He detaches himself from Josh's back, giving em the opportunity to actually turn around and look him in the face, and says, “On your balcony?”

“Yeah,” Josh says. “Balcony.”

Outside is chilly now that it’s dark, but still a lot less chilly than Josh's bedroom. The tiles of the balcony still glow with _some_ warmth under eir bare feet. Ey spreads out the blanket ey picked up from the living room and reaches for the ashtray before ey actually sits down. Faris folds himself into a neat little cube around his teacup, and he pulls his fags from the pocket of his trackies.

“Stopped trying to quit again?”

“Piss off,” Faris says, muffled through the corner of his mouth with the cig he's got between his lips.

“You're so weak.” A second later, when Josh realises eir own fags are still sitting on the bedside where ey left them, ey adds, “Gonna have to bum me one.”

“Here you go.”

Faris leans over and sticks another cig between Josh's lips, lights em up while he's at it, and he goes back to warming one hand on his teacup. Josh only sees now that he’s wearing eir socks, the ridiculous heart-print ones.

Ey restrains emself from commenting on it and instead takes a long drag from eir fag and exhales. “So,” ey says. “What did you want to talk about?”

Faris makes a long, rumbling Faris noise. “Well. I've been doing a lot of research.” He holds his mug more tightly, fingers shaky like they are when he's nervous. The fag in his other hand trembles a bit as well.

“Relax, bird.”

“How did you know you were, you know?”

“Trans?” Josh asks back. They always say trans when the question starts with that. “Or a scientist?”

“Whatever you are. A scientist. Non-binary, I guess.”

“I don't know,” Josh says back. Well, ey really doesn't know. “I just kind of realised that the whole transitioning thing wasn't for me, and obviously being a woman wasn't really for me, either.” Ey tests whether eir mug is still too hot to drink, which it is, but that's more to have something to do with eir hands. The goosebumps run up eir arms and along eir chest, and ey regrets not putting on socks. “I just wanted to see if I can be something else, I guess?”

“Okay. That's not a very helpful answer.” Faris fidgets when he talks, voice slow and heavy like molasses. “'cause I was thinking, and I spent a lot of time on the internet. And I think I'm agender.”

He coughs and reaches for… well. Josh's not sure if ey should be thinking in terms of _he_ any more. Faris reaches for the mug, still obviously too hot to drink, and carefully sips it either way.

“Okay,” Josh says. Ey looks down at the blanket, at eir own feet crossed Indian style, the mugs and the ashtray and Faris' stupid socks. Maybe ey feels a little bit stupid, so as soon as ey said it, ey adds, “Which one's agender again?”

“It's the one where you don't have a gender at all.”

“Right.” Josh tests how hot eir tea is again and takes a cautious sip. “Sorry, I'm not that good with remembering all the labels.”

“It's okay.” Faris exhales a cloud of smoke and untenses, shoulders slumping forward.

“So, like.” Josh sips eir tea some more and asks, “do you want me to call you anything specific? New name or pronouns?”

“Faris. Just Faris, but they,” Faris says. “ _They_ would be good.”

“All right.” Josh goes back to the fag ey had smouldering in eir hand for a little while now. Ey's never been on the receiving end of the whole coming-out-of-the-closet ordeal before. “I never really liked they pronouns myself, you know? Always thought it was a bit impersonal.”

“What d'you mean?”

“'cause it always makes me think of multiple people. Or like, when you don't know what someone's gender is, so you say: _someone's ringing my doorbell but I don't know who it is, I wonder what they want_.”

Faris laughs, short and low. They – _they_ , Josh stresses it in eir mind – nudge a little bit closer on the blanket and stub their fag out in the ashtray.

“But I know what my gender is, so it's weird if people call me _they_ as if anyone didn't know.”

“And your gender is...”

“Fuck you.” Josh cuts them off. “My gender is fuck you and also shoegaze.”

“Shoegender,” Faris says, mock thoughtfully, and reaches for their mug.

The tea's no longer steaming, so when they take a sip, Josh grabs for eir own mug and drinks as well.

“No, but, what you said about it being impersonal, I think that's the exact reason why _they_ works for me.”

Faris leans over to rest their head on Josh's shoulder, and Josh doesn't mind at all. Ey actually reaches out and wraps one arm around them.

“'cause it's not like I'm whatever you are, I'm just. Not really any gender.” Faris' toes tap a weird rhythm in their ugly socks. More fidgeting. “So it doesn't bother me when people talk about me like they don't know what gender I am since there's not really anything to know.”

Again, Josh doesn't know what to say to that, so ey makes an understanding noise. Ey smokes what's left of eir fag down to the butt and leans over to stub it out on the balcony tile.

“Did you tell any of the others yet?”

Faris shakes their head. “I'm telling Rachel when we're meeting tomorrow.”

They start to say, “You're actually the first…”

And right at the same time, Josh says, “Don't tell me I'm the first person to know.”

They both burst out laughing at that, as cliché and stupid it is, Faris low and short and Josh does eir obnoxious cackle. Ey’s past the bitterness in eir throat whenever Faris mentions Rachel by now, or at least ey likes to think so. Together, it sounds just right.

“I just thought you'd be the safest person to tell to 'cause you'd understand it the best, so.”

“Yeah, that's… That's not really an issue.” Josh fidgets in the same way Faris does, and in the same way ey usually _doesn't_ fidget. Ey's not a fidgety kind of person. “I'm just not used to people coming out of the closet to me. Usually I'm the one who's coming out to people.”

Faris shrugs and makes another one of their rumbling noises, and Josh kind of wants to kiss them. Just in the way that says, _It's okay, I'm glad you told me about it_. To be reassuring. But ey doesn't.

When it's been silent for a little while, Faris says, “I was gonna tell the others next time we're in the studio.”

“So... probably tomorrow, too?”

“Yeah, probably.” There's a little laugh in Faris' voice, barely noticeable, but Josh can feel the little hiccup their body does with it. “Might have to help me with it, though.”

“What d'you mean?” Josh asks back, and because ey actually knows _exactly_ what they mean, ey adds, “I won't have to. They're not stupid. Dilys and Joe aren't, they get what it's like.” Ey makes a grab for the cigarettes Faris conveniently left lying on the blanket and lights emself another one. After ey exhales a long stream of smoke, ey adds, “And Tom's a bit thick, but he's not _that_ thick. He'll deal with it.”

Faris snorts out another laugh.

“'s gonna be alright if you tell them.”

Faris makes one of their rumbling noises once again, but this one's a lot more uncertain. “Still feel like it'll be different from when you came out.”

“What d'you mean?”

“'cause you were, you know.” Faris hesitates.

When Josh turns, ey can basically see their brain mechanisms picking out the next words even in the dim light, brows knit tightly.

“Already trans before you came out?” That's obviously not a question, but Faris still says it as if it is. “So we all already knew something was going on, just not _what_. And then on the other side there's me.” They cough. “Sorry if I'm being offensive.”

“You're not.” Josh squeezes Faris' shoulder a tiny bit tighter and puffs eir fag again.

“Okay.” Faris fake-coughs and adds, “I don't really have anything else to say.”

“At least you figured it out without doing the whole binary thing first, I guess,” Josh says, not really sure what else ey should say right now. “So that puts you ahead of me.”

“I guess?” Faris reaches over and pries the cigarette from Josh's fingers, and Josh doesn't try to stop them. Technically their fags as it is. They take a deep drag and exhale, and then they say, “Not like I hadn't considered it. Like, briefly.”

Now Josh truly doesn't know what to say. Ey says, “Oh.”

Faris rumbles some more.

It's quiet again, not the comfortable type of quiet, but it's not _bad_ quiet either. Just the kind of quiet where that statement is looming over both of their heads, but Josh doesn't know what to say, and, obviously, Faris doesn't know what to say either. Josh takes eir cigarette back from Faris and smokes it down to the butt, and ey finishes the last of eir tea. Finally, it’s the right temperature to drink, but ey left the teabag in for too long so the last sips go down bitter.

When it's been quiet for so long that Josh feels like ey _really_ should say something, ey asks, “D'you want to talk about it?”

“What?”

“About how you found out.”

Maybe that's not the most tactful thing Josh could've said. After a second, ey coughs, and says, “You don't have to if you don't want to.”

“I don't know,” Faris slurs out. “There's not really much to talk about.”

They reach for their mug and lift it up to their mouth. Josh watches them carefully, head turned to watch Faris close their eyes and slump back in relaxation.

“I guess I've always been disgusted with my own body and never did anything about it, is all.” They're back to fidgeting, fingers at the lip of the mug, working into the little creases where it's been chipped. “Since I was a teenager. I was really young when I realised I wasn't really meant to be a man.”

Josh makes an affirming little noise, enough to let Faris know they should go on. Take their time.

“You know being trans isn’t about finding your body disgusting, though, right?”

Right after, ey realises that maybe ey shouldn’t have said that, not when Faris is just opening up to em.

“I know that.” Faris fingers their mug some more and says, “I don’t mean I thought it was disgusting as in ugly. Just disgusting as in _incorrect_ , you know.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“And at the time I thought it just had to do with that I was gay, 'cause at that time I thought I was, too. Like maybe that was a sign I was really a woman or something.”

They laugh, not so much an expression of humour but a dry, snide snigger. Josh laughs along anyway.

“I think that’s what happens to a lot of people.” Ey's really tempted to reach out and grab another fag, but ey doesn't. “How old were you when that happened?”

“Fifteen or sixteen. Way before the band.” Faris fidgets with their mug some more and sets it back down, and they say, “But I just ignored it for a while, and then I realised I'm ace, so I just assumed a lot of the disgust was to do with that. Like, with the whole sexual urges thing.”

Josh makes that same noise again, fingers squeezing at Faris' shoulder once more. Ey’s not going to ask the obvious question, the invasive one. Instead, ey asks, “Any reason why you're realising what's it about now?”

“Not really.” Faris yields deeper into the touch, deep gentle purr in their voice when they say, “Just me and Rachel were talking about it, so I did some research.”

Josh nods. “So you talk to her about this stuff.”

It's not meant to come out bitter by any means, but Josh guesses that it does judged by the twinge that goes through Faris' shoulders when ey says it.

“It's not,” Faris starts. “Not that we talk about it, really. Just that we were talking about being ace and what it's like for me.” They reach for the fags still lying on the blanket this time around, and they fidget with the packet before tucking it back safely into their pocket. “‘cause obviously she isn’t, and she’s trying to be understanding of me.”

Maybe they do it on purpose to make it come out with a sting of bitterness, but even if it’s on accident, it stings.

“Are you still jealous of her?”

Josh can feel that they’re looking right at em now, but ey’s not going to turn eir head in response.

“I wouldn't say jealous. It's just weird that you've got someone else now, you know, outside of us?” Josh feels stupid and cheesy for saying it, and maybe childish, too, but ey still continues, “Weird to think we're not your top priority.”

“So you're basically just saying you think _jealousy_ is such an ugly word.”

“I don't know, probably.” Josh leans eir weight back onto Faris' shoulder when ey speaks, close enough to smell Faris' clean skin through the reek from their old clothes, and ey says, “But you like her and she likes you. Which is good, I guess. So I'm just trying to deal with it.”

Well, ey _is_ trying, and still, saying it out loud feels like lying.

“Deal with it,” Faris repeats. They fish their fags back out from their trackies to light one up. “'s good.”

“Yeah.”

Josh takes the cigarette out of Faris' hand, and their fingers tangle for a brief moment. Ey takes a deep drag. That comfortable quiet settles in again, finally, since Josh feels like they both said a lot more words than usual in this conversation already. More than strictly necessary, too. What ey needs right now is to go back inside and recharge.

“Hey, bird?”

“Yeah?”

“We're good with each other right now, right?”

“Yeah, we are.”


End file.
